REVIEW: Argentina, 1985 [2022]

Rating: R | Runtime: 140 minutes
Release Date: September 22nd, 2022 (Argentina) / September 30th, 2022 (USA)
Studio: Digicine / Amazon Studios
Director(s): Santiago Mitre
Writer(s): Santiago Mitre and Mariano Llinás

History was not made by guys like me.

After the military dragged its feet to prosecute the leaders of the dictatorial Military Junta that disappeared thousands during their rule (and who “agreed” to a military trial knowing their compatriots would never comply), the Argentinean justice system decided to do what many—including lead prosecutor Julio César Strassera (Ricardo Darín)—thought impossible.

They greenlit a civil trial against Videla, Massera, and a cohort whose best defense was blaming subordinates for acting without their knowledge and victims for being the “actual” subversive villains of this tale. Cue death threats, military stonewalling, and fence sitters refusing to dare go against an entity that could very well overthrow the government again as retribution. Oh, and a younger generation willing to fight to ensure the country they’re inheriting is one that won’t be stolen again.

Director Santiago Mitre and co-writer Mariano Llinás’ Argentina, 1985 takes us behind-the-scenes of this development and the arduous court case that ensued from an insanely short time period to collect evidence/witness testimonies to the continuous attempts to delay to a closing argument that would galvanize the nation.

Despite the inherent drama to such a monumental historic event, however, the filmmakers understand—like Strassera’s theater friend—that a little panache goes a long way towards winning over an audience. So, don’t be surprised to find yourself laughing throughout this insanity too. It’s a necessity once we begin to hear from the victims and understand just what sort of atrocities were being committed. The subject matter would be too much to bear without it.

So, there’s Strassera’s home life with a precocious, gung-ho son (Santiago Armas Estevarena’s Javier) spying on his sister’s (Gina Mastronicola’s Verónica) boyfriend because Dad thinks he’s a mole. There’s deputy prosecutor Luis Moreno Ocampo (Peter Lanzani) fighting for the people despite his family being military royalty and his mother a staunch supporter of her church’s fellow parishioner: Videla.

Add Strassera trying to avoid an adversarial government gladhander (Gabriel Martín Fernández’s Bruzzo) and his “kid clerks” showing no fear when confronting the military’s defense attorneys and it’s hard not to find yourself enthralled with all the phone calls, theatrics, and distractions meant to derail any actual truth-telling that occurs regardless.

Because the trial is coming. The victims’ stories are why this film was made—not just to memorialize them, but to also expose the reality that everything a Fascist says he didn’t do was definitely done. The only way to stop these viciously anti-democratic actions is to hold those responsible to account, so don’t be surprised if you find yourself seething like me that the US Attorney General has continued to drag his feet and allow the leader of a coup announce his candidacy to try and see if he can succeed this time.

To watch the heroism in the face of fear amidst the period detail on-screen still gives hope, though, that such thugs will get their day in court. And that our own Strassera and Ocampo might have the courage and determination to sway hearts and minds even if, as the former wonders aloud, we have already fallen prey to the sort of tribalism guaranteeing the opposite.